A walk on the beach

Twenty nine years ago, a rather young couple got married. They're still living together, pragmatically rather than with absolute-fairy-tale-happiness , which is quite remarkable considering the current situation of the world. So let me raise the proverbial glass in honour of my parents' marital achievement.

Well after a fruitless morning reading up on the basics of the MCCEE and the MCCQE, I have finally understood why various national medical councils offer the option of obtaining their national medical licences to foreign graduates. It's a money making scam!
I don't really know why I'm even contemplating this horrendous task, (since I have absolutely no desire of ever living in Canada) except perhaps just to please dear old Daddy- and mayhap to prove to myself that I didn't just waste five and half years of my life on nothing.

The latter part of the day is by far the best. Katja and I drove all the way to Jurmala for a nice long walk along the Baltic beach. Jurmala is a charming coastal town with quaint little wooden houses and incongruous modern architectural marvels thought up by the Nouveaux-Riches.
It was quite a cloudy-rainy day, but the beach was full of "walkers" enjoying the fresh sea breeze.
There's a certain allure to the Baltic sea in this weather. I don't really know how best to describe it, perhaps one must really experience it rather than read about it. The small waves rhythmically sway back and forth as they rock the small black-headed gulls meditating on the surface of the water. A multitude of shades of grey line the horizon, like many layers of ethereal pearly organza.
Which each step you take on the wet sandy beach filled with patches of drying tangled brown seaweed, you regain a sense of equilibrium.

"The voice of the sea speaks to the soul. The touch of the sea is sensuous, enfolding the body in its soft, close embrace."
by Kate Chopin.